I am reminded, though, of this time 2 years ago. I pulled into my school parking lot on the first day of school and just sobbed. I could barely go in. It's not that I didn't want to be there--I genuinely love what I do--but I was supposed to be on 'maternity' leave helping Jean Paul get acclimated to his new home. The end of summer felt so final; the hope I had clung to in July and August ripped from me as I crossed the threshold. The work of smiling through every day, overwhelming.
That same month, I started taking graduate classes in educational administration. I looked through my journal recently and realized that I had been praying whether or not to start classes since 2010. I had applied and then unregistered several times, not sure it was a good decision for our family. August 2013 was my last chance to register without starting the entire process all over again, and I really needed something to keep my mind busy. Can I say that again? I really needed something to keep my mind busy. So, I asked Philip if I could sign up for a few classes. Being immersed in education classes was such a blessing--it invigorated me for the work of teaching and gave me a new focus.
Then, a few months later, my colleagues were gracious enough allow me to represent our school in a teaching program. I am sure those red eyes the first day of school helped me to get some pity votes, and I was just floored. If you can believe it, I was talking to a friend during the meeting's announcement and had to be told twice. I can say this because I don't think that award really had much to do with me being a phenomenal teacher. I have neighbors and colleagues in my building and in the district who teach circles around me. And, that is not false modesty, I promise. I steal ideas from them every day.
When I look back, that sequence of events--the first day of school, and the decision to start classes, and the small recognition--were not a coincidence. I believe they were a divinely appointed whisper from my Savior to say, The dreams and gifts I have given you have not fallen through the cracks. You are right where you are supposed to be. Joy and purpose are not found in circumstance, but in Me. I work in ways you cannot see.
And, in the sweet provision that can only come from the Lord, the recognition also came with a monetary prize. Immediately, I knew my heart's desire for that money: I wanted to return to Africa. I wanted to redeem that moment where Jean Paul's mother pushed him toward me, and I had to say no. I wanted to steal back that snapshot of abandonment and replace it with one of love and sacrifice and favor. Philip graciously allowed me to open an account for my 'Trip to Africa' fund, and we waited for the right time.
Two Augusts later, the start of this school year brought excitement, not overwhelm. I was actually looking forward to a year without so much activity (I finished classes in May), where I could slow down and find small joys in my family and friendships. I sat down to mark the school calendar. Then, I went back through the months to mark the birth dates of close friends and family. When I went to write Jean Paul's birthday, I was surprised to see that it fell on a four-day weekend. I checked flights, and the prize money would cover my trip.
So, on October 11, I was given the surreal privilege of experiencing this day. God is so good. All the time, He is good. But, to allow me to see Jean Paul's tooth-filled smile again, and to feel his shoulders as I prayed the Lord's goodness and mercy over him, and to hear this new family of voices celebrate his life, there are no words.
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